Black Helicopters
by Theimei
Summary: You're gonna get what you deserve, and not a bullet less.
1. Chapter 1

I know. They think that I don't, but I do. I know about both of them.

"Matt! Honey, I'm going to head out. I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up"

I don't reply. I don't want to talk to that woman. She's just going to her fuckbuddy's house for another good time.

I sit down on the couch and wait as the TV and PlayStation hum to life when I click the power buttons.

Any second now, I'll hear the familiar sound of my father sneaking into my mother's wallet to get enough money for another fix. It doesn't matter, though. She deserves it. She deserves to be stolen from and he deserves to be cheated on and they both deserve to die. And I? I deserve to get out of this hellhole of a family.

A blessing comes to me via email from a friend a few weeks later. I'll have to check into it. Everything is exactly as it has been. My mother's a whore and my father's a thief and drug addict. I head downtown with a few easily made fake certificates and buy what I need.

It was purely divine that both of them were actually home tonight, I'm sitting in front of the television playing Final Fantasy when my mother comes up behind me,

"Sweetie, I'm going to go to bed now. Sleep well."

She kisses me on the cheek and heads into their bedroom. Once she's gone, I wipe my cheek off. Only she and God know where those lips have been. My father has long since been in bed, passed out from the heroin. I play a little more until I'm fairly sure they've fallen asleep, and head to my room to get my supplies.

Shadows are playing on the wall as I walk down the hallway, only lit by the moon. I can faintly hear the background of my video game from the living room. I creak open the door to their room and pull the revolver from my bag. It's heavier than I expected. Maybe it's to make up for the weight I should feel in my heart, maybe it's coincidence.

I aim it at my mother.  
BANG.

I aim it at my father.  
BANG.

I walk back out into the living room and throw the weapon into the fire, remembering to grab my suitcase and boarding pass.

I don't feel bad. No, they deserved it.  
I sit back into my chair and wonder faintly how much different England will be.

* * *

**Well, first of all, this fic is loosely based off of a song called Black Helicopters by Matthew Good. Also, I will be updating this fic whenever I can, which hopefully will be pretty often.**

Sorry for the angst btw. . 


	2. Chapter 2

I walk up to big wooden doors of the orphanage. I stand there for a few moments, admiring the building. I run my fingers over the grooves in the wood.

I open the doors, and walk into my new life.

The tiles are white, I can see myself walking, arms swinging at my sides. A door toward the right has the word "Office" engraved on the front, so I figure that's where I should be. I knock softly on the door and am answered with a muffled, "Come in."

"Ah, you must be Mail."

I brush the red hair from my face and move to shake his hand. "Yes, it's a pleasure, Mr. Ruvie." He gives me a soft smile, and motions for me to take a seat. I can tell he doesn't like children much. Well, some job he has for not liking children.

"Our first order of business will be your new name. As you might know already, other children at this orphanage, or anyone, knowing your name is a risk."

"I understand. If it's all the same to you, I would prefer to be called Matt."

"Is there anyone who knows you as that name?"

"Not anymore."

"Then, I suppose that's okay," he leaned back in his chair and checked the time. "Your room number is 307. Take the stairs that are across the hall from this office, or you can take the elevator toward the back by the water fountains, your roommate is named Mello, and if you have any concerns or questions, please, come to the office anytime."

"I see. Thank you very much for your help." I get up and walk through the door, noticing that there is not a soul in the entire school. They must be in class still.

When I unlock the door to my room, I assumed no one would be there, but here is a boy, about my age, hunched over a book. I don't even think he noticed I came in. I drop my stuff down on the floor with a 'thud.' Still nothing. I shrug, and turn on the TV to plug in my GameCube, he still doesn't even look up.

I'm about half way through level 3 when I hear a voice from behind me,

"So, you're Matt, huh?"

I glance up at him, he's still mostly concentrating on that book, "Yep."

"Hm," is all he says.

I figure that's all he's going to say, and turn my full attention back to my game.

"How'd your parents die?" Is what he says now. I am floored. He asks about it, like he's asking what time it is, or if the weather is good for a walk.

"In a house fire," I reply. He gives me and funny look and asks,

"How long ago?"

"Couple of weeks."

"Oh," I realize that now he's actually looking at me. "Why are you not hurt?"

"I was at a friend's house."

He looks at me for a long moment, then goes back to his work. I'm happy to have my silence back as I continue on my goal to get to level 15 before the night is through.

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**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter more than I did. It seemed almost a little boring to me, but things will come together in the later chapters, I promise. Reviews are amazing, da? **


	3. Chapter 3

**6 months later**

I'm adjusting pretty well to Wammy's. I don't have many friends, besides Mello, but that's okay with me. Mello's all I need.

I'm in English, at the moment, and the bird outside of the window is enthralling compared to what we're doing in class. Mello is no fun, he's actually paying attention. I turn my attention toward the bird. Soon enough, the bell rings and Mello and I go up to our room.

I actually convinced him to play video games with me tonight, instead of studying for a pop quiz that will, most likely, not happen. He, obviously, doesn't beat me, but he's pretty good. He has potential.

We're both lying on my bed and just talking about things. All kinds of things, what food we like, what our lives we like before this, shows that are good on TV. I contemplate telling him about my parents, but I don't think that's a good idea.

"Hey, Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in God?"

It's not like I wasn't expecting the question. Mello wears that rosary around everywhere he goes. In fact, I don't think I've seen him with it off since I met him. "Yes," I say the words slowly, waiting for Mello's reaction, "but, I hate him."

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, "Why? God created all that is good."

"Because," I say "he, also, created all that is bad. He lets terrible things happen to wonderful people. We're just like toys to him. Like his own real life Sims game." He opens his mouth, ready to quote the bible or say something to change my mind and see the light of God, but I stop him.

"Mello, you can quote the bible until the cows come home, but you aren't going to change my mind. Not with this."

He's opening his mouth again, but the words quickly die on his tongue. We lie there for a little while longer in silence. I can hear birds chirping outside, and tell Mello that I'm going to bed.

As I lie there, waiting for sleep to invade my mind and body, I think about that night a little over 6 months ago. I still don't feel bad. I can't help but think, though, that something terrible will come of it, and it will cost me the most important thing in my life: Mello.

I write it off as the drowsiness getting to me, and don't think about it again.

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**A/N: Sorry! This took me a while to get up. First, wouldn't let me login, then it wouldn't let me upload a story D: Anyway, things will start coming together in the next chapter, which may or may not be the last, depending on how long the next plot development takes up. Thanks for reading :'D**


	4. Chapter 4

**6 years later**

I love Mello. I really do, it's just the utter stress of the Kira case is getting to me.

I look outside, to find that it's raining. The drops of water are pelting the window as if trying to get into our house. I stare outside for a minute and watch the distant lightning flicker over the night sky.

Mello is in the next room, working on something or other, involving the case no doubt. I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist. I get no response. He just keeps writing away. I give up and walk over to the bed, plopping down onto it with a sigh. Closing my eyes, I listen to the rain against our roof. The monotonous beating of the rain calms my constantly tightened nerves a little. It's too much to handle, continually feeling as if any second your heart might stop beating in your chest, with nothing, but a flick of a pen.

I've always hated that term. Heart attack. It sounded too crude, as if your body was purposely trying to cause itself damage. It's especially wrong in this case, which is not your body at all, but a killer. You know that feeling you get in your stomach when you feel as if something bad might happen? I've been feeling that way, nonstop, for the past few months. It might have been more bearable, if Mello wasn't always busy; he's all I need after all. Maybe, I wouldn't have needed to resort to this. It's funny how life works, the one thing I've hated the most in my life, the one thing that's completely against everything I stand for…is the only thing that helps me from falling apart.

A tinge of guilt washes over me as these thoughts run through my mind, but I try to push it away as best as I can.

"So," I say, looking around the room, "when do you think you'll be finished?"

"A while," is the only response I get, if you could even call it that.

I don't answer and pull myself off the bed. Mello doesn't notice as I swipe the 50 lying on his dresser.

If he knew, he would hate me. He would kick me out of the house; never want to see me again. I-I couldn't deal with that. I love him too much to tell him. I love him too much to let him go, but I hate my father too much to admit what I'm doing to myself.

* * *

Matt thinks that I don't know. How can he honestly think that I don't notice it? He never comes home fucked up or anything, but it's not like I don't notice the missing money.

I'm a fucking detective. I can figure out what's going on under my own roof.

It's not that I like what he's doing, because I don't. In the end, though, I don't resent him for it. Catching Kira is the most important thing to me right now, but soon I'll be able to focus my attention back on Matt. Then, he'll stop, because I've know him long enough to know that's what's causing this.

At this moment in time I'll let it be, because I love him too much to take this one thing away from him.

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**A/N: I'm actually pleased with the outcome of this chapter, there isn't much dialogue, but the plot is finally coming together. I actually decided last minute to put that bit with Mello in, I felt like his feelings should be shown as well. Only one more chapter left ;_; (Sorry, I don't like to have that horizontal ruler in between Matt and Mello's thoughts, but it was the only way I could differentiate them.)**


	5. Chapter 5

I look out of the car window at the blushing almost-night sky. Mello is on a motorcycle next to my car. This is it. This is the deciding factor in whether Mello and I will be the ones who catch Kira, and I feel pretty good about it. I think we can do this.

I pull up in front of the building and take a sharp turn. With a cigarette between my lips, I pull up my smokescreen gun from the passenger seat, and aim it out of the open window.

The entire crowd is staring at my car as I drive by quickly; definitely not something I'm used to. I pull the trigger and watch as clouds of smoke disfigures all of the people into blobs of hazy black.

I turn my car around and back onto the road. The cops don't waste any time going after me. I already have a shitload on my tail. I speed up, past a few cars.

It's not like I wasn't expecting it, but a huge line of police cars had blocked the intersection ahead. Well damn, I'm trapped.

There are so, so many of them. How many body guards does this woman need anyway? As I slowly got out of the car, I thought of Mello. He was probably already in the abandoned church with Takada. I wasn't really worried about myself too much. I mean, they needed me for their "investigation." I take note of their huge guns.

"Since when has the Japanese been allowed to have such nice arms?" I figured acting cocky is the way to go, "Besides, you want to know where my accomplice has taken Takada, right? You can't possibly fire at--," and that's when I felt it.

It's like hundreds of bees stinging me all at once, but each bee has such force that I'm staggering backwards with every bite. The bullets entering my body are so odd, so foreign. It all feels so wrong.

I realize I am falling back, and as I fall, I take the time to notice all the helicopters flying amongst the stars. The stars are so natural looking, and the helicopters just ruin it all, just like the bullets that are now lodged into me.

I can see smoke billowing from where Mello was supposed to bring Takada, and I know what's happened. He's gone. He's on his way to see St. Peter. He's done some bad things in his life, but he's always repented for his sins.

As the cigarette falls from my mouth, a tear falls from my eye. I know I'll never see Mello again. I'll be spending my eternity in the depths of Hell.

I think to myself, though, with a kind of ironic humor, that I've gotten what I deserve.

At that, my eyes close, and never open again.

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**A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long to update! I started school, and with all the homework I was getting, I came home exhausted and in no condition to write. This story is dedicated to Christina, Alison, and Dannie, my wonderful betas (: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it (even if it was depressing.) Also, there COULD be an epilogue. I'm not sure yet. **


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